Lawful Heart

by Amity Lassiter

  “I’m the sheriff, but she runs this town,” he said to Norah as an aside. Now she did laugh, and it felt good. These people were kind and good and she was suddenly feeling more like herself than she had in as long as she could remember. For a moment, she felt as though the last couple of years hadn’t even happened.

  “Don’t you have work to do?” Nan asked Banks, and he nodded in response.

  “Paperwork.”

  His face gave away exactly how he felt about that paperwork and it drew another laugh out of Norah.

  “We’ll see you for dinner tonight, then,” Nan told him.

  “Yeah, maybe. We’ll see how Dixie is doing.”

  “We’ll see you for dinner,” Nan repeated, collecting Norah and guiding her toward the car.

  “Don’t let that face fool you,” Nan told Norah. “He is pretty much married to that job. And he’s always in the business of any newcomers.”

  “He really seems to care about the people here,” Norah observed.

  “Yes. But don’t let his ‘innocent’ line of questioning bowl you over. He can get serious real quick. He’s just trying to protect the people in this town, but sometimes a casual conversation becomes an interrogation without warning.”

  *

  “Here we are,” Nan announced as they pulled up at Shady Pines Villa.

  The building was larger than Norah expected, and looked quite new. She might have mistaken it for a motel on a drive by—the sprawling building was only one story and had several unit doors to the outside.

  “Is she happy here?”

  It had been some time since she’d seen her great aunt at all, but she remembered her vibrant, larger than life—not the type of woman she’d imagined would go quietly into a place like this.

  Nan nodded with a smile. “Best social life she’s ever had. This is a good place, lots of freedom and independence. She does say she misses things from time to time, like having a big kitchen, but those aren’t worth that much if there’s nobody to sit at the table.”

  Ouch, that was a sting if Norah ever had one. Nan’s tone wasn’t mean, and when she looked over at Norah, her eyes were soft. In the short time she’d been in the Montgomery home, she got it. Nan’s table was full, at least once a week, with the people she cared about the most. And without that, that big table in the open kitchen wouldn’t have been necessary or wanted.

  Norah had been just a girl when they left, and she’d never been back—neither had her parents, as far as she knew. She’d loved living near Auntie Gloria and had spent lots of time in her big house. She regretted that she’d never come back when she was old enough, but with all that time between them, it hadn’t felt comfortable, and Norah had made a career out of taking the path of least resistance over her lifetime. Not anymore. She was here, she’d see Aunt Gloria. And even after she left Three Rivers, she’d come back. It was barely any distance at all from Denver. Her aunt would know Norah’s children, because she’d been such a big part of Norah’s childhood, and they deserved that warm, rock-steady love in their life.

  “Ready to go in?” Nan asked. Norah nodded, taking a steeling breath, and then climbed out of the car. Nan walked with her to the main entrance.

  “Each unit has an outside door but one inside for staff as well. She’s in unit 16. I’ve got to make a quick delivery, then I can come along when you’re ready.”

  Nan produced a scratch pad and pen from her purse and scribbled a number on it, pressing it into Norah’s hand. “I should have given you this last night, but here’s my cell number. Just give me a ring when you’re ready.”

  The butterflies bouncing around in her stomach surprised Norah as she walked down the concrete toward unit 16. Would Gloria be happy to see her? Or was there something she hadn’t understood between her parents and her great aunt? Something that meant she wouldn’t want to see Norah? She’d come this far, she couldn’t turn around now.

  She knocked and a voice from within said “Come on in, it’s unlocked!”

  Norah pushed the door open. Inside, Aunt Gloria was posed in a wingback chair, a young blonde girl with a big camera crouched in front of her. Her face, which had been resting in a serene smile, focused on the camera, changed when her eyes drifted up and caught sight of Norah’s face. Her eyes went misty and she pressed her fingers to her sternum. The photographer’s camera shutter clicked a couple more times before she turned to see what had changed Gloria’s face. After a second’s hesitation, her great aunt rose to her feet, looking like she’d seen a ghost.

  “N-Norah?” her voice trembled with the question and Norah felt a hot rush of tears rising up in her throat. The thought of seeing Gloria had been emotional but hadn’t prepared her for how she would feel; her heart like it was squeezed in a vise, but with the strangest feeling of comfort and ease descending on her. She nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat.

  Between them, the photographer rose, took a step back and continued to snap photos as Norah stepped in the door and closed it behind her. Gloria crossed the floor, her arms already reaching for her niece. Norah felt the hug almost before it got there, the warmth, the soothing, the rightness of it, and let out a breath as she was wrapped up in that familiar embrace.

  “How are you even here?” Gloria asked breathlessly as she squeezed her so tight Norah thought her heart might shatter into a million pieces.

  Norah chuckled. “It’s a long story.”

  Her aunt held her at arm’s length, getting a good look at her. Tear tracks stained her cheeks and it just about killed Norah that she’d stayed away all this time. Gloria didn’t have any other family here in Three Rivers—when Norah’s family had moved, that had been it. “I’d like to hear it.”

  She turned to the girl with the camera.

  “Lily, I’m so sorry—this is my great niece, Norah. I haven’t seen her…well, I haven’t seen her since she was a young girl.”

  The photographer smiled, held out her hand. “Lily Baylor. I’ll be out of your hair in just a minute.”

  “Norah Clarke,” Norah said, shaking her hand.

  “Lily was just here taking pictures for some art project she’s doing.”

  Lily chuckled, disassembling her camera lens and packing it up into a big padded backpack.

  “Something like that. I’m doing portraits of all the residents. There’ll be an exhibit later this summer. I’m glad you showed up, actually—we’re doing some shots with family members, where applicable. With your permission, I’d love to show you what I took and share it with the town. I think I got some really lovely shots. Will you be around a while?”

  Norah paused. Will I? Realistically, the answer was…maybe. She had been here 24 hours and already it felt like the best option she’d had in a long time. She’d have to work out the details, but maybe she’d stay here. She would have as much support here as anywhere else.

  “A couple days at the very least,” she replied.

  “Great. I’m sure I’ll see you around. It is a very small town, after all,” Lily said. “I’ll be back on the weekend to show you the photos, Gloria. I’ve got livestock shoots all this week.”

  Gloria waved her hand dismissively, teasing. “I know you’ve got a day job and all. Can’t spend all your time making us old folk feel special.”

  “You know if it paid my bills, this would be all I did,” Lily said with a laugh, stepping out the door. “It was nice to meet you Norah, have a good day.”

  They watched Lily pull the door shut behind her and then there she was, all alone with her favorite family member—one it had been too long since she’d last seen. Gloria reached out and squeezed Norah’s hand.

  “Come in, sit. Heavens, child, I thought I would never see you again.” Her aunt gestured to the small sitting area in the apartment; a love seat and the wingback, tipped toward one another with a small coffee table in the middle. “You have no idea how shocked…and happy I am to see you. I’ve wondered about you constantly since your mother stopped responding
to my letters.”

  “I didn’t know mom wrote to you,” Norah said, perching herself on the edge of the loveseat.

  “Yes, up until…probably ten years ago. Then she just stopped. I suppose letters in the mail just got to be too tedious. I really enjoyed hearing from her, though. Can I get you anything to drink? Tea? Coffee? A snack?” Gloria hadn’t sat down yet, and Norah shook her head, reaching out to touch her wrist and indicate for her to sit.

  “No, I’m fine. I stayed at Nan Montgomery’s last night and she fed me breakfast this morning. I’m so full I couldn’t find an extra corner for anything if I wanted to.”

  “Oh, Nan.” Norah could tell from Gloria’s expression that she felt fondly about Nan to begin with, but the woman had gained extra points for putting Norah up. “She’s such a sweetheart. I’m just so surprised you’re here, though. Tell me how?”

  Norah drew a deep breath and let it out slow. Just thinking about telling Gloria how she’d been abandoned after Rob had hurt her made Norah’s heart race. Gloria would be so disappointed she’d gotten herself into that situation to begin with. She could tell her what had happened but gloss over the more hurtful details, she decided.

  “I was going to Salt Lake City with my boyfriend, Rob. His cousin lives there and we were going to get work. He stopped here for a drink at the bar.”

  Gloria raised a finger there, as if to put a pin that thought. Norah might not have realized it while they were still here in Three Rivers, but she’d learned as she got older that her father was an alcoholic. She should have probably seen the warning signs with Rob, Gloria was telling her.

  “I know. I know better. Anyways…we got into an argument and we parted ways.”

  “Ah ha,” her aunt said, sitting back in the chair. “Just parted ways?”

  “He wasn’t a good person. I’m better off, believe it or not.”

  “So what are your plans? When do you head back to Denver to your folks? Or will you go on to Utah?”

  Norah shook her head resolutely. “Nothing for me in Utah. Maybe not Denver. I don’t have any real plan to speak of right now.”

  “It’s still fresh,” Gloria supplied.

  “Yeah, it’s still fresh,” Norah said with a terse laugh. “But I definitely have no need to be where Rob is…and I don’t have much to go back to in Denver, if I’m honest.”

  “Oh?”

  “No, I’m not close with mom and dad anymore.” Norah shrugged. “And I don’t have many friends in Denver.”

  Gloria’s lips tightened and then she nodded. “They should never have taken you from here.”

  Norah sighed, but she didn’t disagree. Gloria loved her—had clearly loved her mother, as well, since they’d kept in touch—it didn’t make sense to leave, to struggle somewhere without any support system at all.

  “No. We moved around so much after that. Mom tried to convince us we were getting a chance to see the Midwest. But I wished they’d just let us settle down somewhere.”

  “Put down roots,” Gloria supplied.

  “Yeah. Or something. I think I don’t make friends easily because I’m so used to the next move being just around the corner. And I’ve made some stupid mistakes—Rob included—because nothing ever feels like it’s going to last anyways.”

  Her brow furrowed, Norah’s aunt reached out and laid her hand on top of Norah’s.

  “Maybe you made some stupid mistakes…but you’re a good person, Norah. You deserve good things. Friends. And a sense of belonging.”

  “Maybe.”

  “No maybes about it,” Gloria said, inviting no further conversation about it.

  Already, they had gone far deeper than she’d intended to go, but it was easy to tell everything to Aunt Gloria. She’d always been someone Norah could confide in, giving her advice and knowledge and chocolate chip cake when she needed it. She supposed Gloria was Norah’s Nan.

  “Have you thought about staying here in Three Rivers?”

  The thought had crossed her mind a handful of times in the last 24 hours. Truthfully, it made about as much sense and had been given as much thought as most of the other decisions she’d made over the last few years. Saying it out loud felt silly, but it really did seem like it was her best option. If she could get a job waiting tables or scanning groceries, she’d probably be able to get by—the people were friendly and the cost of living surely couldn’t be that high, considering the size of the town and the distance to the next biggest one.

  “I’ve thought about a lot of things in the last day.”

  “Well maybe let this one stick.”

  —NINE—

  Banks tipped back in his chair and sighed. It didn’t seem possible, but the stack of paperwork on his desk had grown. Truthfully, this hadn’t been what he’d signed up for. He much preferred patrolling, talking to people, taking care of the town, or things that felt like taking care of the town. Incident reports, inventory, and the silly little update for the town paper he’d promised to start doing but hadn’t accomplished yet didn’t feel like taking care of the town, though Nan would remind him there were many ways to give service to people.

  As if he’d summoned her, she appeared in the doorway of his office with a takeout tray.

  “Lunch?”

  Surprised she was alone, considering she’d had Norah with her what felt like minutes ago, he gestured for her to come in. He couldn’t say he would have minded Norah’s visit. She was easy on the eyes and easy to talk to—Nan was right—once someone was from Three Rivers, they were always from Three Rivers. She fit right in.

  “You need an assistant,” Nan said, without preamble. She said it often enough, but this time there was conviction. A plan, no doubt. He could almost see it coming, but she’d surprise him with the details he was sure.

  “I got it,” he replied, because he always put up at least a little fight when Nan had a plan—a fact they acknowledged every single time. She said it kept her young, fighting with him.

  “Except you don’t ‘got it’, Banks. Look at this place. I mean, I know I’m not a tip top housekeeper, but I absolutely taught you better than this.”

  Banks laughed out loud at that. She wasn’t lying. Nothing was organized; papers that weren’t even close to related were haphazardly stacked together. Half a cup of cold coffee sat beside his ancient computer—he was sure it was the original first computer the sheriff’s office had ever gotten. He was going to have to clear a space just to eat that delicious smelling lunch Nan brought. On second thought, he might just take it out to the picnic table on the lawn. He let out a long sigh.

  “Tell me.”

  “Tell you what?” Nan feigned innocence.

  “Your plan.”

  “I don’t have a plan.”

  “You always have a plan. So just tell me.”

  “It works better if I plant these things in your brain as if they were your idea,” she said, indignant.

  “Well sorry for raining on your parade.” Banks laughed as Nan crossed her arms.

  “I can’t stay long, so make sure you come for dinner tonight and we can talk more.”

  “About what?”

  “About you hiring Norah Clarke to get your office under control.”

  Banks’ brow shot up and he leaned back in his chair, mirroring her crossed arms, and let out another short laugh. The girl had barely been in town 24 hours and Nan was trying to hook her up with a job. She hadn’t even, to his knowledge, expressed any desire to stay in town at all.

  “Does Norah Clarke even want this job?”

  Did he want Norah Clarke in his office, electrocuting him every time she handed him a report to sign?

  Nan brushed his question off. “Even if it’s just temporary. You haven’t had any time off in ages, and…” she looked over her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t there to hear it. “Has Carter even properly grieved his marriage with all the work he’s doing?”

  She might have been right about that. His deputy’s wife had taken off on him
six months ago, and served him with divorce papers that Banks was pretty sure were still stuffed in the glove box of his cruiser, unsigned. Banks could have easily given him the time off to deal with it but Carter didn’t seem to want to, using his work as a distraction. He made a mental note to have a chat with Carter about that.

  And it would be nice if he didn’t have to spend every waking moment here in the office trying to get caught up on paperwork. And to forward the phone to someone else once in a while. Especially with Dixie so close to foaling. A part of him wondered if he might have been able to change the outcome of last year’s foaling if he had been able to spend a little more time and energy on the mare. Sure, he’d been there when it counted, but maybe he could have foreseen something and gotten ahead of it.

  Damn Nan, upending his office in a five minute visit.

  He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “All right, I’ll think about it.”

  “And come for dinner,” Nan supplied.

  “And come for dinner.”

  —TEN—

  If Nan wasn’t careful, Norah was just going to stay in Three Rivers. Her stomach growled as she knocked, then entered the kitchen. They’d picked up a few staple items for the apartment, but Nan had asked Norah if she’d like to take her meals upstairs, since she ‘always cooked too much for one old lady anyway’. After the dinner and breakfast she’d had so far, she would have been stupid to say no.

  “Oh hi, sweetheart. You mind giving me a hand?” Nan said from the stove, where a big pot of red sauce was bubbling.

  “I’m happy to help.” Norah crossed the floor quickly and took the wooden spoon Nan offered her.

  “Just keep that moving a bit,” she said. “I’m going to take this garlic bread out, then the pasta’s almost done.”

  “Got it,” Norah said, taking a big whiff of the sumptuous smelling steam rising from the sauce pan. She stirred the sauce slowly. “This smells so good. And I’m gonna bet it didn’t come from a can.”